


Demigods Don't Get Drunk

by cruisedirector



Category: Hercules: The Legendary Journeys
Genre: Brothers, Community: contrelamontre, Crack, Drunken Confessions, Drunkenness, Gods, Hangover, Love Confessions, M/M, Mocking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-03-16
Updated: 2003-03-16
Packaged: 2017-10-03 09:47:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cruisedirector/pseuds/cruisedirector
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wanted Ares slash for the contrelamontre drunk-or-tired POV challenge, but Iolaus insisted on getting drunk with Hercules instead.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Demigods Don't Get Drunk

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted Ares slash for the contrelamontre drunk-or-tired POV challenge, but Iolaus insisted on getting drunk with Hercules instead.

Maybe, thought Iolaus, he shouldn't drink so much wine at victory celebrations.

Like tonight's. It was fun at first trying to keep up with Hercules, but that was always a losing proposition. Herc had led the charge saving the village, and he cheerfully swallowed down glass after glass of the wine offered in gratitude from the villagers, even though Hercules wasn't a big fan of Dionysus. Of course he invited his partner in the rescue to drink with him. After awhile Iolaus hadn't been able to feel his sore muscles, which was a good thing. But he also hadn't been able to hold his tongue, which was not a good thing.

"I love you, man," he'd said dreamily to Hercules, who only laughed at first and said yeah, he loved Iolaus too. "No, I _really_ love you," Iolaus had insisted, and planted a big sloppy kiss on Hercules' cheek, which had amused the locals greatly. Hercules had laughed it off with them and staggered out with his buddy, trying to balance Iolaus' weight and the jug foisted upon them by an enthusiastic young woman. "You're drunk, Herc," Iolaus had giggled, ignoring Hercules when he claimed that no, really, he wasn't.

After all, this happened a lot after they'd saved villages from some monster or other.

So Hercules hauled him off into the night, to the rooms that a grateful innkeeper had offered them, and said things like "Yes, Iolaus" when Iolaus tearfully told Hercules how lucky he was to have met him, and collapsed on the bed next to Iolaus when Iolaus stumbled there with assistance from the basin, dropping his clothes in a trail as they went. And even though Iolaus was sort of clumsy and emotional, once the candles were out Hercules thanked him for everything and said he loved him and kissed him and eventually fucked him through the mattress so hard that he had to get up and stuff the straw back afterwards.

In the morning Iolaus had a headache and _very_ sore muscles and almost forgot to pretend that the night before hadn't happened, the way they usually did. Hercules rolled out of bed and said he was going down to the well to get some water, leaving Iolaus to lie squinting at the miserable sun shining through the cracks in the curtains. Then he saw a flash of light and knew that his morning was about to get considerably worse.

"Whaddaya want, Ares?"

"I just wanted to congratulate you on a job well done." The god of war was dressed, as always, in leather and metal and enough oil to fry a fish in, and as always he looked tan and tough and...well, really good for a sadistic, murderous bastard. "You and Hercules kicked a lot of butt yesterday. It's sure to stir up trouble all over the region."

"Ares, go 'way and let me sleep," Iolaus groaned, rolling. Unfortunately the movement dragged the twisted sheet down his naked body, exposing him to the cool air and the god's amused leer.

"My brother used to have better taste," he laughed.

"He's only your half-brother. And it's not what you think."

"Oh no? He didn't fuck you through the mattress?"

"Piss off, Ares. I was practically out cold. And he was drunk."

The buff warrior laughed again. "Demigods don't get drunk," he said, before vanishing in a flash of light.

The room was still too bright, and Hercules hadn't come back with the water which Iolaus desperately needed to clear his melting head. "But if demigods don't get drunk," he said aloud to the ceiling, "that means that Hercules was sober all those times we..."

The door banged open. "You up yet?" Hercules was carrying buckets of water in his thickly muscled arms, and he was wearing even less than Ares had been. And if he didn't quite have the same fierce swarthiness as a certain other son of Zeus, he made up for it with his smiling eyes and in his perfect ease with his golden body.

Iolaus still felt sore in about a dozen places, and he knew that unlike the gods, his body was showing every bruise and welt he'd received in battle the day before. But he smiled at his buddy and tried to sit up on his elbows, at least until the warm pressure of the covers dragged him back down.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm up, Herc," he croaked happily. "Come over here and I'll show you. Because demigods don't get drunk, do they."


End file.
